The Knight
by capnnerefir
Summary: A brief, depressing speech by a character we generally don't see as depressing or worthy of sympathy. Rated because younger readers might not be able to handle it. Written on a challenge.


This was written on a challenge, which eplains why it's so different from my usual stuff. If you feel depressed after reading this, I recommend Drodegasm to put a smile back on your face. And if that doesn't work, go and get yourself a puppy/kitten/hamster/any furry little tihng that'll make you happy.

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Have you ever had a really bad job with a boss who was intolerable? You know, the kind of job that makes you wonder why you get up in the morning? The kind of boss who makes you think of showing up to the office with a sawed-off under your coat and blowing away everything that moves, including that idiot reflected in the glass? I do.

Sometimes, I imagine that I live a human life, in a human world. And in my imagination, my mornings always go like this. When my alarm clock goes off in the mornings, sometimes I just lye there in bed wondering what the point of all this is. I look up at the ceiling fan and wonder if it would hold the rope long enough for that to end it all. I look at the window and wonder just what I'd think on my way down. I wonder how long it would take me to waste away if I just lay there and never moved again. But none of those things would work or I swear I'd do them.

Then I head into the bathroom. Do you have any idea how many ways you could kill yourself in there? I imagine drawing myself a nice, hot bath; and sharing it with the hair dryer. Weird, since I don't have any hair. I look in the mirror and wonder what wold happen if I put my head through it. I wonder if its possible to fill up the sink, put my head in there, and let it all go. But none of those things would do it for me, either.

I walk into the kitchen for breakfast and what do I see? I'm like a diabetic kid in a candy store. You can kill yourself with just about any kitchen utensil. I bet I could gouge an eye out with a spoon and then start on my brain... A fork in the temple could cut a vein... And all those knives... All the breakable bowls and cups, all the glass, the sink, the toaster... And still, none of that would work. Not for me.

So somehow, I make it through the first ten minutes of my day without killing myself, no matter how much I want to. I slap on the big, fake smile and go off to work. And the whole time, that bastard's breathing down my throat, staring at me. Demanding that I do the impossible time and time again. Forcing me to cover up his mistakes and play his games while he sits there, watching; always watching.

There are countless ways I could take my life. But my life belongs to him, now and forever. Until the end of time; and maybe longer. Nowhere is there any escape. Always his demands, his curses, his threats, his manipulation, his hate... And whenever I think that maybe, just maybe I might get a chance to rest up or to have some fun of my own, I always hear that one word echoing across time and space. That demand for my services. DRODE!

Yeah; I'm the Drode. The Wildcard. The guy who shows up with that twisted smile and laughs at you. But you don't get what I'm laughing at, do you? I'm not laughing because I'm amused. I'm laughing because I'm disgusted with all of it and if I stop laughing, I just might cry. And I'm laughing at the irony of it all. Because although I'm superior to all of you in every conceivable way, I'd die to be one of you.

I'm just a pawn in this game, as much as the rest of you. But what gets you through this? You have each other. Your false friends, your backstabbing family, your 'lovers' who will always, always leave you. It's all an illusion, a sham, a fraud to keep you from rising up against this game. And it works. You believe it and are happy, in spite of it all. But I don't get those illusions. I and I alone am in this unique position: to see the game in its full scope, to understand it completely, and yet still be powerless to do anything about the way I am used.

If you're pawns on the chess board, I'm the knight. I'm more powerful than you. I can move in ways that your minds simply cannot comprehend. But I don't get to move of my own accord. I'm not really important; just a piece to be sacrificed for the king. Just like all the rest of you. The pawns do not have the advantage of being able to see the whole scope of the game. They can advance only forwards. And if they're very lucky, they might get to take a step to the side or go diagonal once in their lives. The knight can move forwards, backwards, sideways, diagonally, and even over the other pieces. The knight can see it all. But he can do nothing but obey and in the end, he has less than the pawns. A pawn begins with seven others. Perhaps, long ago, I had a second knight. But they were sacrificed long ago. And now, I move alone, a solitary piece twisting across the game board in ways you can never understand. And yet my purpose is the same as yours: to try, fail, and die for the king's pleasure.

For me, there can be no escape in this or any life. If I would choose to rise up, both Crayak and the Ellimist would smack me back down. They couldn't risk me upsetting the balance of their precious game. And I cannot die; not really. Always, Crayak will call me back. I have tried to escape him. I have tried to run away, to hide, and to destroy myself. But I don't have that luxury. Even the lowliest creature has the release of death to look forward to, one last thing to free them from this game. But for me...nothing.


End file.
